


Invite Me In

by explosionshark



Category: Oxenfree
Genre: F/F, Post-Game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-15 19:18:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13619982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/explosionshark/pseuds/explosionshark
Summary: Clarissa and Nona, after everything.





	Invite Me In

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HaxanHexes (PineNeedles)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PineNeedles/gifts).



> Hey I wrote this for my good friend, [Yasha](http://galpalgadot.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Title from the song by Wild Ones.

“It’s really good to see you,” Nona says, when she means _I’ve missed you_ so _fucking much._

Clarissa’s smile is slow-blooming, almost shy as she shifts her grip on the coffee cup in front of her. “Yeah. Likewise.”

There’s this pause, this moment that just hangs where they’re looking at each other from across the table, like strangers. It feels absurdly surreal, just for a second, like something from tv — a blind date or some other kind of unbearably awkward set-up.

And then that familiar crinkle starts at the corner of Clarissa’s eyes, smile pulling back more sharply, a flash of teeth and she’s crumpling forward and scooting back her chair at once, the scrape of metal on concrete cutting through her warm peel of laughter.

Nona’s leaning in before she even realizes, meeting Clarissa halfway across the table to embrace, almost knocking over her ridiculously expensive frappe in the process, definitely getting whip cream on her sweater, though in the moment she can hardly bring herself to care.

“God, what are we _doing_ ,” Clarissa mumbles into Nona’s hair, rocking them to the side. Nona shuffles after her, so they’re hugging properly now, standing up instead of leaned over a table.

“People are staring,” Nona says, pretty sure but not willing to open her eyes to confirm. The patio of the cafe is pretty full and it definitely feels like they’re making a scene.

“Fuck ‘em,” Clarissa says, squeezing Nona one last time, tight, before easing back. She glances around, catches the eye of a man who’d been watching them over a newspaper. “Hey, fuck you.”

“Wow, a year in the city and you’re already a New York stereotype,” Nona teases, swiping at the stained hem of her sweater with a handful of napkins.

She doesn’t have to look up to see Clarissa roll her eyes, not when it’s so apparent in her voice. “Shut up. Hey, let’s get out of here.”

That _does_ get Nona to look up. “What, already?”

“Yeah,” Clarissa says, shrugging loosely. She stretches, long arms arcing high over her head and bending back down toward the center of her back, and Nona wonders if the motion is meant to distract her from the restless bouncing of Clarissa’s knee. Clarissa might be better than most at appearing composed, but even she has her tells.

“We just got our drinks,” Nona protests, more on principal than anything. She’s already made up her mind to follow Clarissa anywhere.

Clarissa shrugs again and stands up, grabbing the coat she’d draped across the back of her chair and sliding back into it, graceful. “I’ll buy you another one.”

It’s abrupt, impulsive, exactly the kind of thing she’d always loved about Clarissa. She was fast where Nona was slow, decisive where Nona was unsure, adventurous where Nona was cautious.

It had been easy enough to stay busy, to not think about what she was missing for the year they’d been apart, but now with the familiarity and steadiness of Clarissa literally close enough to reach out and touch again, Nona finds her heart aching with all that longing she’d tried to bury and then some.

A bit unfortunate, the truth in that old saying about absence and fondness.

“Alright,” Nona says, taking one more long sip of her drink through the straw before abandoning it, throwing a handful of crumpled bills on the table as a tip. “Sure.”

x.x.x

Nona’s not about to say so, because it feels too much like a guilt-trip, but her last year in Camena had been miserable without Clarissa.

And it’s a little embarrassing, she doesn’t think she’s really got the right to be disappointed at Clarissa leaving, not when it was something she always talked so much about. Even before losing Michael, before that fucked up nightmare on Edwards Island, Clarissa had always been desperate to leave. It’s actually, probably the reason they became friends in the first place.

Nona had spent the first couple weeks after transferring to Camena High an awkward loner, clueless about how to infiltrate the baffling, impenetrable social network of a high school comprised entirely of kids that had grown up together. She’d never lived in a city so small. Nona hadn’t been boisterous enough to force a friendship, not novel enough to hold anyone’s interest once the strange allure of her ‘New Kid’ title wore off.

And then there had been detention. Her first, in what would definitely end up approaching a school record, for tardiness — she’d overslept, walked into homeroom half an hour late. Clarissa hadn’t been in detention with her, of course, always too good at keeping out of trouble. But they’d run into each other — literally — in the hall as Nona was leaving. She’d knocked the big spirit week banner out of Clarissa had been carrying from her arms, _stepped_ on it, left a dirty footprint right over the poorly painted face of the school’s mascot.

And Clarissa had laughed. She’d waved off Nona’s awkward, profuse apologies and leaning in to whisper conspiratorially that she agreed with the sentiment. And it had been so… easy from there. Almost like a dream. She’d helped Clarissa hang the banner by way of apology, they’d gone outside to smoke. Clarissa’s eyes had lit up when Nona talked about the places she’d been; growing up in San Francisco, summers with her father’s parents in Korea, even the last few years spent bouncing between nowhere towns in the midwest.

Clarissa’s attention made Nona’s history feel exciting, attractive, even, instead of just anchorless and patchwork.

It’s no wonder she’d kind of started to fall in love.

The larger friend group that Clarissa had integrated her into had been amazing. They were people she liked, mostly. A few she loved. A few more she could barely put up with, but still. Camena with Clarissa around had been the only place Nona had ever lived where she didn’t feel like an outsider.

And then she’d left, right after graduation, just like she always said she would.

And it shouldn’t have felt like the betrayal it did — it wasn’t Clarissa’s fault that Nona still had a year of school left. It wasn’t like Clarissa had ever pretended her plans were anything other than ‘get the fuck out of town.’ It wasn’t like Clarissa hadn’t still texted and kept in touch on social media and called on the birthdays and holidays they always hung out on.

Clarissa hadn’t been the only friend from their group that had moved after graduation. And Nona missed Mary, and Nick and Lily, sure. And it’s not like she’d been alone — she still had Alex, and Jonas, and Ren and their friends, plus the rest of the people in her grade that she’d gotten to know through Clarissa.

But the last year had been the loneliest of her life, despite all of that. It was only just now dawning on her, only back in Clarissa’s presence for a scant few hours, just how empty she’d felt without her.

It was embarrassing, a little. Kind of pathetic.

Years of pining, a full year of distance, and she was still this hung up on her best friend.

“Hey,” Clarissa bumps into her, jolting Nona physically out of her reverie. She feels her face flush, struck by the bizarre thought that if Clarissa had somehow learn to read minds it would be all over for Nona. But Clarissa’s gaze is gentle and quizzical, not pitying or uncomfortable, so that couldn’t be the case. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Nona lies. Clarissa isn’t buying it, from the suspicious slant of her mouth, so Nona makes a show of hiking her sweater up around her shoulders. “It’s kinda cold, huh?”

“I guess,” Clarissa frowns, clearly just placating her. Nona doesn’t mind. She appreciates it as a gesture. “Wanna go back to my apartment?”

They’ve been wandering around all afternoon, ever since leaving the cafe. Clarissa had walked her all around the city — at least that’s what it felt like. She’d wrinkled her nose but acquiesced to Nona’s request to visit Time Square. After, she’d guided them expertly through a labyrinth of subway tunnels, and now they were in Midtown. They’d arrived at a pier with a distant view of the Statue of Liberty — both of them agreed that it wasn’t worth spending the money on a ferry. It felt a little silly, a little too touristy, but still — it was pretty. Nona’s glad she insisted.

Though there had been people around everywhere, the entire day had felt exceedingly private. Intimate, kind of— these moments with Clarissa felt almost stolen.

Nona was tired, but going back to the apartment meant sharing Clarissa with her roommates. And maybe it was selfish, but Nona isn’t sure she was ready to do that yet. Too afraid that Clarissa might somehow read that in her voice, Nona just shakes her head, lets herself lean into Clarissa where she’s braced against the railing.

They watch the lights move out on the water in silence.

x.x.x

Clarissa insists Nona take her jacket. It’s not actually cold enough for this many layers to be comfortable, but the gesture is sweet and Nona’s already committed to the lie.

And there are worse things in the world than exploring a city she enjoys with her best friend, wrapped up in her scent. Clarissa’s perfume is something spicy and earthy at the same time. One of her roommates had been kind of a hippie-seeming chick, Nona half-remembers a detail from Clarissa’s instagram feed about the girl’s web shop. Maybe she made whatever scent Clarissa’s been wearing.

The thought leaves her oddly jealous.

“So, Boston,” Clarissa says, voice almost lost in the din of the subway. They’re heading back, finally. It’s nearly one in the morning and Nona’s exhausted, despite still being on West Coast time. Traveling always takes it out of her, and it feels like she’s been running around since her plane touched down this morning.

“Yeah,” Nona says, waiting for Clarissa to continue.

Clarissa shifts beside her, leaning in close so she doesn’t have to raise her voice. Her hand finds Nona’s on the seat and she tangles their fingers together, pulling their joined hands into her lap and stroking her fingertips over the chipped spots in Nona’s nail polish. “You’ve been there before, right?”

“School trip in seventh grade,” Nona says, trying to calm the beating of her heart. She prays her palms won’t start sweating. “I was in the History Club, we came for a tour. And then again with my mom when I was looking at schools. Have you been?”

Clarissa blushes, actually. “Uh, just once. When you told me you got into Emerson. I wanted to check it out.”

“Oh,” Nona says, because it’s all she can manage around the lump that’s worked its way up her throat.

“Congrats again, by the way,” Clarissa murmurs, biting her lip almost shyly, darting her gaze around the subway car. “You always acted like you weren’t interested in college. So.”

“I wasn’t,” Nona admits. “But I knew my parents would flip if I tried to get out of it. And setting the bar so low kind of made the fight over my choice of schools a lot easier.”

Clarissa nods, looking back at Nona, finally. And there’s something in the way her gaze catches on Nona’s face that makes her add, “And it’s not like there was much else to do besides study, after you were gone.”

Clarissa rolls her eyes, but the soft smile on her face is pleased. “Oh, c’mon. I might not have been in town, but it’s not like we lost touch. I still follow you and all of our friends, it’s not like I don’t know you weren’t locked in your bedroom studying and counting down the days til we hung out again.”

Nona shrugs.

“Is that why you and Jonas broke up?” Clarissa asks, voice so low Nona almost doesn’t hear, even this close to her. “‘Cause you went with Emerson?”

She and Jonas broke up because Nona realized she wasn’t into boys, actually. But it feels so unbearably pointed to say that now, almost vulgar, so Nona finds herself skirting the question.

“I guess. We’re just headed in different places, we work better as friends.”

Clarissa nods, looking like she wants to ask more but then the train pulls into its stop and she cuts herself off. 

Clarissa offers Nona a hand up she doesn’t need but accepts anyway. They hold onto each other well after departing the train.

x.x.x

Clarissa’s roommates are all asleep by the time they get in. Nona’s grateful, though she hopes it isn’t too obvious.

These people aren’t just strangers that Clarissa lives with, they’re her friends. And they’re actually being pretty cool by letting Nona crash with them while she visits. They seemed nice enough, in the brief moments Nona had shared with them earlier as she dropped off her luggage, but is it really so bad to want more alone time with Clarissa?

They end up on the fire escape outside of Clarissa’s bedroom, the only place in the apartment they can share a cigarette. The metal is cold on her ass even through her jeans, but Nona uses it as an excuse to lean her body into Clarissa’s for warmth.

“I missed you, Nona,” Clarissa breathes out through cloud of cigarette smoke.

“Really?” Nona asks before she can catch herself, regretting it the moment she feels Clarissa stiffen beside her in response.

“Yeah, really,” the bite in Clarissa’s tone isn’t anger at Nona so much as it’s hurt. Nona knows her well enough to distinguish, but that doesn’t stop her stomach from twisting at it anyway. “You don’t think I did?”

Nona wishes they’d had something to drink tonight, so she at least had an excuse for the confessions slipping off her tongue. “I just… your life here seems so great. I mean, I’ve only been in town for a day but already I can see how much happier you are here. How much better it all seems to fit. It’s hard to imagine you missing anything about Camena.”

“I always felt like I was suffocating there,” Clarissa says, every hint of sharpness gone from her face and her voice. “Even when I was a kid. I mean, my family’s been there for like four generations. So many people born there and just… _staying_ and dying there without ever leaving, without ever trying to have more. And it always felt like that was gonna be me, whether I liked it or not. And I couldn’t handle it.

“It always scared the hell out of me, but then… losing Michael. And everything that happened after. I stopped being scared, I guess, because it wasn’t a possibility anymore. I knew I had to leave, so I just did. And I don’t regret it.”

It’s shame Nona feels then, for coveting Clarissa’s time and presence when none of this is new information. And it’s selfish to still wallow in how lonely she’d felt in Clarissa’s absence, when this was obviously what she needed.

“I don’t regret it, but I…”

Clarissa trails off, taking a long drag of the cigarette and staring out into the darkness. It’s not a great view here on the fire escape. There’s an alley a few stories below them, a brick wall of windows with mostly closed curtains across. Nothing to keep her attention, so Nona lets her gaze drift, watches the cherry on Clarissa’s cigarette bob in the dark.

“You said it didn’t work out with Jonas. Or Ren.”

Nona blinks, a little startled by the change in subject. “Yeah.”

“Why?” Clarissa asks, ashing the cigarette off the side of the fire escape with a flick of her thumb against the filter.

“I told you, we don’t want the same things,” Nona says, hating how defensive she sounds.

Clarissa doesn’t seem hurt by it. The deepening of her frown has a distinctly doubtful slant to it, which sets Nona more on edge, but when she speaks there’s no judgement in her voice. “There used to be a time where you felt like you could actually talk to me about this stuff, y’know. And I’m not sorry for leaving, but I hate whatever happened that took that away from us.”

It deflates Nona entirely.

She feels petty for lying, for being so evasive the whole night.

“I think I’m gay,” Nona says, finally, because there’s nothing left to stall with in the face of Clarissa’s stark honesty. Twisting her hands in the hem of her shirt, stretching it out. A bad habit. “No, I mean… I know I am. That’s why it never worked out with Ren or Jonas or any of the other guys I’ve tried dating.”

Clarissa’s quiet for a long moment, watching Nona intently. When she speaks, her voice is gentle and it scatters all of Nona’s pent up irrational fears. “Okay. Are you seeing anyone right now?”

“What, like a girlfriend?” Nona asks, pointlessly. The directness of the question has her so shy, suddenly.

“Yeah.”

“No,” she answers after a beat. Clarissa nods, stubs out the cigarette on the fire escape and flicks the butt out into the night. Nona watches it fall with a frown. “Are you?”

Clarissa shakes her head. She shifts, twisting until she’s facing Nona, her knee pressing into the side of Nona’s thigh.

“Nona.”

She looks over and then Clarissa is kissing her.

She tastes like smoke, like Nona’s always imagined she would. But the pressure of her mouth is gentler than Nona imagined. Her hands fluttering on Nona’s shoulders, across her cheek, down her neck are less sure than Nona expected them to be.

They both linger, but it’s Clarissa who pulls back with a gasp, like _she’s_ the one that’s been absolutely blindsided.

Nona blinks, swiping her tongue along her lips for the lingering flavor of Clarissa’s lipstick. Peering through the dark, she can see the edges of Clarissa’s mouth just barely smudged. She wonders if there’s a stain on her face yet, and if not, what it will look like when she kisses Clarissa again to earn one.

“Oh,” she says, grinning uncontrollably and only a little sheepish about it.

Laughter breaks Clarissa’s cautious expression in half, lighting up her whole face and she’s beautiful. She’s so beautiful.

“Yeah,” Clarissa agrees, and leans in again.

Nona kisses her, harder this time, shivering when Clarissa’s fists tighten in the fabric of her coat.

x.x.x

“It’s only three hours,” Clarissa whispers into Nona’s hair, after they’ve stumbled into bed. They’ve changed into pajamas now, but they both still smell like smoke.

“What?” Nona asks, sleepily, too comfortable and hazy to follow along.

“The commute,” Clarissa clarifies, pressing a kiss to the shell of Nona’s ear. Warmth blooms from the place where her lips met Nona’s skin, til she’s almost too hot for the blankets. “Three and a half.”

“The commute?”

“Here to Boston. I could visit on the weekends. Or you could. We could switch off.”

“I’d like that,” Nona whispers, unable to stop her eyes from drifting shut. Five nights a week outside of Clarissa’s arms seems almost an impossible concept now that she’s currently in them.

But they’ll have to make the most of the time in between.

“Good,” Clarissa says, soft, and it’s the last thing Nona hears before she slips into sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [tumblr](http://explosionshark.tumblr.com) for more bullshit


End file.
